


Welcome Surprises

by wyvernisgod



Category: Something You Want (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Happy birthday you grouch, I love these characters even though I feel like they're a little OOC but... whatever, Written for Joe's birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 05:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11799249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernisgod/pseuds/wyvernisgod
Summary: Joe is pretty sure that Sarah is hiding something from him, but he's not sure exactly what it is.





	Welcome Surprises

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is, the second fic I've written about side characters that don't show up that much! Maybe the next one will be about Cooper and Maitho, but I guess that dream will have to wait, huh? 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and, as always, feel free to add comments and suggestions!

He’s pretty sure that Sarah is hiding something from him.

 

It’s nothing blatantly obvious-- she isn’t coming home late, or taking odd phone calls, and the car comes back every day without bullet holes-- but it’s been bothering him for weeks now. Something in the eyes, a nervous rolling of the shoulders, things that he’s learned means that Sarah is feeling guilty. They’re subtle, but Joe’s lived with the kid her whole life, and she’s gotten into enough trouble that he can spot them right away.

 

But she’s an adult now, with an adult job, and he figures that if she wants to tell him, she will. There’s no point in prying.

 

Well, he thinks that for the first week, anyway. The week after that is spent furiously planning how he can get her to tell him what’s wrong without outright asking for it. 

 

He tries to bring it up in conversation, casually, when they’re at the dinner table together. He even makes dinner (if making mac and cheese counts as dinner) for the two of them. She’s in her work uniform, fake tattoos on her knuckles and all, and Joe clears his throat when she’s about halfway through her first plate. 

 

“So. Anything exciting coming up this week? Going anywhere with that friend of yours, Scotty or whatever his name is?”

 

Sarah looks up-- and there it is. She rolls her left shoulder, just a little, and pauses for just a beat before saying, “Uh, no, I don’t think so. I might go out with Maitho and Cooper a little later in the week to help them pick out a cake for the wedding, but they’ve got that pretty much in hand.”

 

He nods, casual as can be. “Sounds disgustingly cute. You should go, and bring me back a couple sample pieces.”

 

She laughs. “I’ll bring a mini cooler and ask them to put the ones Maitho doesn’t eat in it. Then you can have them whenever you want.”

 

They finish the meal, still talking, and then she leaves, and he has an hour to brood over her strange behavior. Not the going out with Foster and Maitho part-- ever since she got that tattoo, they’ve been closer, which makes Joe nervous. Foster isn’t exactly the best friend for a 19 year old girl to have, and some of the people he associates with make Joe’s skin crawl in the worst way. He hates to think that his daughter might be mixed up in something involving… any of them.    
That’s why he calls Foster, a scowl already on his face before the man answers. 

 

“Hey, Joe, what’s up? Need to take off tonight?”

 

That gives him pause. “Uh, no. I was going to ask you if Sarah’s been doing okay at her job recently. She’s just been acting a little different, and… in this business, that’s not the best sign.”

 

Foster laughs. “Oh, she’s been doing fine. The boss is actually thinking about giving her a raise soon, maybe move her to a more glamorous position.”

 

Joe relaxes, just a little bit. When it comes to his daughter, Cooper Foster knows that he means business and takes no shit, and therefore tells Joe no lies. But the doubt still lingers, and what Foster says next only serves to intensify it.

 

“Hey, Joe, turns out that we don’t need you this Thursday or Friday. We’re hiring a new driver, and your end of the week chaperonees are easier to handle than most, so that’s who they’ll be training with.” He speaks casually, almost carelessly, but the amount of information and the extra time off make Joe’s eyes narrow. 

 

When he hangs up, he reviews what information he’s gathered. A hunch that his daughter is hiding something, two sudden days off, and Foster’s sudden okayness with Joe being gone for more than a day at a time-- there’s nothing that would hold up in court, but Joe doesn’t need a court. His hunches are what’s kept him alive through the years working with Foster, and it’s all he needs to be absolutely sure.

 

What he’s sure of, he doesn’t know. But he’s sure.

 

It’s Wednesday when he comes home to Sarah reading pamphlets on the couch. At the sight of him, she sets them facedown, casually, and says, “Hey, dad. How was work?”

 

He doesn’t look at the pamphlets. He’s better than that. Instead, he looks around at the kitchen, hoping that she’s left some indication of whatever she’s looking at, and mutters, “Oh, same as always. Assholes that need a car and don’t have any courtesy. How about you?”

 

She shrugs, and although he doesn’t see her do it, he can bet that her eyes flicker to the left, like they always do when she lies. “Pretty normal. I went shopping with Scotty and his partners, and then we went downtown and ate at the deli. Scotty’s actually thinking about opening up a little side business for desserts there, he and Maitho were talking about it. He makes really good cakes, and these cute little chestnut cookies that his mom taught him how to bake. I think Megan is going to help him? She’s really good at decoration.”

 

She goes on, and he nods along, adding a comment where it’s needed, but he can’t shake that feeling, and it makes him more grumpy than usual. When Sarah leaves, he searches the living room for the pamphlets, but can’t find any. He DOES find a business card tucked into the couch, for Murphy’s Warehouse, a place downtown that he knows very well. A chill goes through him, and he clenches his fist, letting out a harsh breath. 

 

It takes him one furious phone call to Foster before he realizes that he could have very well left that card there-- he carries them around in his wallet, in case a client needs to know. And when Foster calls him back, he confirms it: Sarah has been nowhere near that place, ever. Foster even has the decency to sound shocked that Joe would think of it. 

 

Joe hangs up and grumps on the couch for half an hour before he leaves for work, still knowing that there’s something he’s missing.

 

On Thursday, Sarah comes home late. Three hours late. She walks in the door and Joe tries not to pounce on her, but can’t resist a sharp, “Hey, sweetie. Where’ve you been?”

 

Sarah smiles at him, setting her keys down on the counter. Her fake tattoos are almost worn away, which is odd, because she just applied them this morning, and they usually take three days to wear off that much. Her shirt is also striped here and there with fine white lines, and when she takes off her sunglasses, her eyes are red. “Over at Scotty’s, actually. He wanted me to come over and taste some of the desserts he was making, since I obviously have the best culinary palette in that house. Not like his mom could whoop Gordon Ramsay’s ass with her arms tied behind her back or anything. I brought you something back, by the way.”

 

She hands him a little box, and he sets it on the table, saying seriously, “Sarah. Is there something going on? You can tell me if there is, I just-- I’m worried about you.”

 

She starts a little, and then her mouth curves into a smile, and she laughs in disbelief. “Dad, I’m fine. It’s been a really uneventful week, actually, since I got that raise--”

 

He interrupts. “You got a raise? Where did they move you?”

 

Sarah takes her vest off, slinging it over her arm, and shrugs. “Into the club itself. I’m a bouncer at the VIP rooms now, comes with a lot of perks. It also comes with a lot of really, really wild parties. It’s a little more tiring than my other job, that’s why I went to Scotty’s, to unwind.”

 

She disappears upstairs shortly after, and he sits at the kitchen table, eating the tiny cookies that Sarah brought home for him. He knows the type of parties she’s talking about. Alcohol, coke, heroin, E, any kind of drug, you name it, it grew and bred and spread on the dance floor. Crazies with eyes full of doped glory trying for their 15 minutes of fame. It  _ was  _ tiring, Joe knew that well enough. That’s why a lot of the guards turned to the drugs themselves.

 

But Sarah was better than that. She wouldn’t-- she would never-- not his daughter, no way. But her red eyes and the fine lines on her shirt and the lateness and the softness by Foster all coalesce into a roaring monster of doubt in his head, and he doesn’t sleep half the night, trying not to get out of bed to check on Sarah just down the hall. 

 

Friday dawns bright and clear, and when he wakes up, Sarah is gone. He makes himself breakfast, worry gnawing at his stomach, and when his phone rings he has it to his ear before the first ring stops. “Honey, what’s wrong? Where are you?”

 

Sarah sounds distracted, almost far away. “Uh, hey dad. Could you come over to the deli real quick? There’s, uh… just come over, okay? Not in your pajamas, though.” And with that she hangs up, and he lunges for the stairs, nearly breaking his neck on the way up and his foot on the way down.

 

The deli is quiet this time of the morning, and Joe slams the front door open with his shoulder, one hand on the butt of his camping knife and the other curled into a fist. He’ll be goddamned if he’ll let anything happen to his little girl without a fight.

 

The noisemakers startle him, as does the sudden shower of confetti, and he jerks back when 8 people jump out at him and start singing Happy Birthday. Sarah is front and center, wearing a party hat and blowing a noisemaker, and she grins at his dumbstruck expression as he tries to figure out what the fuck is going on. 

 

It takes him until they roll out the cake to realize what day it is. 

 

“Happy birthday, Joe. Turning 60 is a pretty big deal, huh? I can’t imagine, it must be so cool to say you’ve lived that long!” Scotty talks excitedly at him, but he only has eyes for Sarah, and she laughs, covering her face with a hand.

 

“Dad, I’ve been planning your birthday party for like a month now, and you show up in your boxers with a knife? Smooth move, old man.”

 

He huffs, half in affront and half in relief. “Sarah Kira Cruz, you scared the shit out of me. I thought you were out doing drugs and getting into trouble--”

 

They all laugh at that one, Sarah so hard that she has to sit down, and Joe tries to explain but eventually he ends up laughing too. They turn on some music before he blows the candles out, and he sits side by side with his daughter, eating chocolate cake, while Scotty and Kit dance to El Mar De Sus Ojos and the others join in or try to sing along.

 

Sarah breaks the silence between them, saying softly, “Dad, I know I probably worried you a little. Sorry about that. But I hope that the party makes up for it. Scotty and I worked for like 2 hours on that cake and the little cookies and those stupid lemon bars you like. I got some of the juice in my eye and it ruined my mascara, so you better eat all of them.”

 

He shakes his head, chuckling, and says, “I don’t know what I did to deserve a daughter like you. I love you, sweetheart. And for the record, you did worry me, but knowing that you’re not doing drugs and getting prison tattoos is enough to keep me happy for the rest of my life.”   
  
She laughs again, and hands him an envelope, unmarked and unopened. He takes it, questioningly, and she says, “Go ahead, open it. It’s your birthday gift.”

 

He opens it carefully, and takes a sharp breath when he sees the acceptance letter. It takes him about a minute to read it, and every second he keeps reading he can feel Sarah jiggle her leg nervously beside him. When he’s done, he whispers, “Caltech? With a full scholarship? Oh my god, honey, this is-- I’m so proud of you!” He drops the envelope and leans over the table, hugging Sarah tightly, and she hugs him back, sniffling a little.

 

“I know that you wanted me to go to a good college, you know? So I applied for a lot of scholarships and I took the ACT again and stuff and I applied and I didn’t think I would get all the money, but they have special scholarships for women in the STEM fields and stuff and it’s all paid for and you can come visit me anytime you want--”

 

He laughs, pulling her closer, and says, “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten. The fact that you’re going for something you want is-- I can’t-- I’m so proud of you, and I’m so happy. Thank you, sweetheart. This is the best birthday gift I could ever hope to get.”

 

When they pull apart, Sarah’s smile is bright and brilliant, and hides nothing, and Joe almost starts to cry tears of joy. But he doesn’t… at least, not until they get home, and the cake with the pretty 60 on it is safely in the fridge. 


End file.
